Page 3 of The Wickedness of Man

“It was Katie’s idea to double the amount of candles,” lamented Danny with a soft, embarrassed grin as he helped mepull out about fifty wax sticks from the icing. “She also wanted them to betrickcandles.”

“Happy twenty-sixth, my dear,” said Concepción. She stood from her seat and hurriedly wrapped me in a huge bear hug and planted a big wet kiss on my temple.

I grinned as she squeezed me tighter, the smell of cocoa butter from her moisturizer and the floral notes of her perfume almost overpowering enough to sweep away the lingering scent of burned candles and wax. The way her body buzzed pleasantly with her desire sent a staggering jolt through me, and I withdrew from the hug.

“Thank you,” I said as she handed me a small bag just large enough to hold a gift card.

“Mine first, open mine first,” she demanded, touching up her lipstick with a delicately manicured nail before taking a napkin and dipping it into a Katie’s water glass to wipe the purple stain from my forehead. She took out a compact and gently fluffed her afro back into shape where it had gone flat when she’d squeezed me as I opened the bag.

I pulled out a birthday card, a silly thing with a picture of two old women with giant, pink colored glasses making a crude joke on the front and read it aloud, blushing. As I’d suspected, there was a gift card inside, which I knew, Concepción being Concepción, would havemorethan a generous amount on it.

I thanked her as she took her seat again beside her latest beau and planted a kiss on his lips while leaving the lingering touch of her fingers against his jaw.

The look that passed between them—the sensation of it—I recognized instantly. The electric feeling of his hunger filled the air and sent a pinch of longing deep within me. I carefully avoided looking over in Danny’s direction, my eyes cast down at my lap as I busied myself putting the card back into the gift bag.

“Happy birthday,cheri,” said Derek, his French accent scarcely audible above the din of the bar around us. He slid a card-sized envelope across the table to me with a smile and then turned his attention back to Concepción, his hand slipping possessively across her shoulders as she leaned against him.

By the time I’d opened his card and thanked him profusely for the unbelievable gift—a hotel getaway in Paris for three nights, to be booked whenever I chose—they were already making out, the gift completely forgotten. The table in front of us was littered with drinks, and even though I wasn’t normally a big drinker, I’d let Katie talk me into the bar in the hopes that the atmosphere was a little more fun than a traditional restaurant. However, the energy in the room was much more… intense than I’d expected, and I was feeling a bit faint. I’d already had several drinks, and while my vision wasn’t exactly double, I knew I was close to getting over the tipsy stage and into the sloppy drunk category. Katie, who pretty much had my same tolerance, had switched us both over to waters a couple rounds ago, but Danny, Concepción, and Derek all continued with the merrymaking—and drinking.

Danny presented me a gift bag with fancy tissue paper coming out of the top and curled ribbons tying the handles together, and I took it from him while passing a knowing look to Katie on my right. She coughed and drank her water, pretending we both didn’t know she’d been the one to wrap it and curl the ribbon.

“He picked it out himself,” she said in response to my silent accusation, a twinkle dancing in her eyes. “I just helped make it look nice. I swear! You know the boy can’t wrap a gift to save his life.”

That part was true—we’d only been together romantically for just over a year, but having grown up next door to Katie and Danny, we’d been exchanging birthday and Christmas presentssince we were kids, so we were all well acquainted with Danny’s present delivery. They usually came unwrapped, or, if his parents or the holiday forced him to cover it, the gifts would be, at best, in newspaper with duct tape for wrapping, and at worst, hidden behind a pillow or in a closet until he handed them over.

Even our anniversary gift—I stopped myself from thinking any further about that night, ignoring the sudden fluttering panic in my chest at how it had ended.

“I did pick it myself,” Danny said, puffing out his chest a bit, grasping his heart as if his pride had been wounded.

I laughed as I carefully untied the curled ribbon and moved the tissue paper aside. Inside was almost certainly a gift that Danny had selected, as he would have been the only one to get me such a thing.

“Oh!” I breathed as I pulled the slim box out, a squeak inelegantly passing my lips. I stared in delight at the new keyboard, the graphics on it showing the custom keys, which had all been painted to look like pixelated magical creatures, dragons, fairies, and tiny castles. I’d been eyeballing this keyboard formonths, drooling over it every day as I continued to slave away on my old one, which had two broken keys and practically all the letters rubbed off on most of the board. If I didn’t know what each button was by touch, I would have been completely screwed.

“Danny,” I exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his neck in a hug, “you shouldn’t have!”

Now he was blushing as I sat down and marveled over the many customizable features—including LED lights that nearly made me swoon. He rubbed his neck.

“I just figured you’d been staring at it for so long, and plus we both know you need a new one pretty badly…”

I laughed, then reached over and placed a hand on his. “True. Thank you.”

For a moment, the bar seemed to quiet down, and both of us looked down at where our hands were touching on the table before we slowly withdrew from one another. It had only been two weeks since we’d gone on hiatus, and the drinks and presents must have helped me forget abut the disaster that was our anniversary and subsequent pause.

Katie reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “My gift comes later,” she said, leaning over to speak directly into my ear. “It’s a bit of a surprise… and something more private.”

“Yeah, of course.” I turned to face the rest of the table. “Should we get started on this cake, or…?”

“I think another round is in order,non?” said Derek, standing with a slight sway. “I had to have the bartender order it specially from Paris, but for a proper celebration, we must make a proper toast.” Concepción and Katie moved into action—Katie begin cutting the cake and removing as much wax as possible—while Concepción reached down and pulled out a set of crystalline flutes from a box near her feet. Danny helped distribute the plates while Derek pulled out a bottle of Champagne they’d been secretly chilling in an ice bucket under the table and presented it against a white cloth towel. If I’d ever forgotten that he was a sommelier, I certainly remembered it in that moment.

“This,mes amis, is a 1995 Dom Pérignon Rosé that will make you feel as if you are being carried away on a cloud by the Roman god of revelry and wine himself.”

Everyone gave the appropriateoohsandahhs, but as Derek deftly opened the bottle and poured our glasses, Concepción came around and whispered as she placed mine on the table, “I told him you knew next to nothing about wine, and he said, ‘Ah, then I shall get her Champagne,’” she said with a smile, mimicking his French accent. “Just know it’s about $500 a bottleand let him walk you through the bouquet and tasting process or whatever.”

I almost choked as she mentioned the price tag, but Derek, either drunk or just delighted to share his passion for really,reallygood alcohol, went through the entire presentation, and by the time I actually drank, my eyes closed in bliss. He wasn’t lying—it was a damn good Champagne. I’d never had anything close to it before—in fact, on the nights I drank, it was usually the cheapest $6 bottles of wine I could find at the grocery store; a fact I wouldnevershare with Derek. After everyone had tucked into their drinks and the joviality returned, I excused myself to the restroom, and wasn’t surprised to find Katie at my heels.

We chatted amicably as we went to the mirror to fix our makeup. Katie touched up her already perfect red curls, applying concealer over an obstinate pimple on her chin, then turned to me, fussing about how my hair was falling, and had I wiped off some of the makeup? She forced me to stay still as she reapplied everything I’d fought to remove, and I settled under her hands, knowing better than to argue. Before long, she paused, catching my gray eyes with her piercing hazel orbs.

“How are you?” she asked. “I mean… Danny wasn’t sure if he should even come, but I told him that of course you’d want him here.”

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